


shatter every window till it's all blown away

by superhusbands4ever (Potterwatch97)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awesome Sarah Rogers, Child Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Homophobic Language, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Iron Man Big Bang, M/M, Minor Character Death, Natural Disasters, Protective Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 14:39:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19087093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potterwatch97/pseuds/superhusbands4ever
Summary: Tony Stark has spent his life growing up in Tornado Alley Oklahoma with his disgraced, drunk, widowed father. At 16 years old, Tony can’t wait to escape the horrible town he’s grown up in. The only thing that makes living there bearable is his boyfriend Steve Rogers, which he has to keep a secret from his father. But after an incident at school, Howard finds out about Tony’s relationship with Steve and he isn’t happy about it. After things with Howard take a turn for the worse, Tony has to figure out a way to escape his house with it’s dark secrets hidden inside - or will a stronger force present Tony with the opportunity to quickly eliminate the problem himself?~Based on the song "Blown Away" by Carrie Underwood





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! So this is my fic for the Iron Man Big Bang 2019 event! I'm very exited to show this to everyone, this is definitely the longest completed fic I have ever written.
> 
> My artist for this event was yeomso, who drew some beautiful art that you can find [here!](https://scapegoatss.tumblr.com/post/185375328718/ironman-big-bang-2019-is-a-go-i-had-a-great-time)
> 
> I hope you all enjoy! This fic is not beta read so any mistakes you see were not caught by me. Also, if you haven't listened to ["Blown Away" by Carrie Underwood](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pJgoHgpsb9I), the song this fic is based on, I recommend you do so before reading this fic! It's totally not necessary to understanding though :)
> 
> **Warning for graphic physical child abuse at the end of the first chapter and homophobic language. Mild physical and emotional child abuse/neglect is referenced throughout the beginning as well, but not described/shown in detail.**

Tony groaned as the alarm clock on his phone started blaring and dragged him back to full consciousness. He turned his head to glare at the offending object on his bedside table, screen lighting up to reveal the time. 6 AM, AKA, too damn early to be awake. He smacked his hand against the face of the phone in hopes of turning it off until the blaring stopped. Tony slumped back against his pillow once more, throwing his arm over his eyes.

He must have drifted off for a few minutes because suddenly his 6:30 alarm was filling the room. Leaning over to grab his phone, he fumbled it and nearly dropped it when a loud banging filled his room.

“ _Turn that shit off!”_ Howard’s voice rang through the wall as he was no doubt banging his fist against it, _“some of us are trying to sleep, boy!”_

Tony quickly turned the alarm off and sat up in bed rubbing a hand against his eye. He sat and stared at a stain on his old bedspread for a moment before getting up to get ready for the day.

He grabbed his clothes and quickly got dressed before going to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth.

 _Another shitty day in this shitty house with my shitty father, going to a shitty school,_ Tony thought to himself as he spit into the sink and rinsed his mouth.

He glanced down at his watch, cursing when he realized he was running behind, and rushed to the kitchen to get started on breakfast.

Tony started his dad’s coffee and got the Aunt Jemima's mix out of the cabinet so he could start cooking. He could hear his dad moving around in his own bedroom getting ready, and he knew if he didn’t have this food ready when his dad came out he would be in trouble.

For the last 16 years it had just been him and his dad in this run down trailer park in the middle of fuck-nowhere Oklahoma. After Tony’s mother had died from complications during childbirth it had just been him and his dad. Some of his earliest memories were of his father sitting in an armchair and watching Tony as he cried for food, ignoring the crying toddler in favor or staring down the bottle in his hand.

After a few years Howard’s WICK assistance had run out and he was forced to get a job. He’d started working at a garage and eventually took over when the original owner had to leave the shop to take care of his dying wife. Once _Stark’s Garage_ was born Tony was left home alone a lot and he’d been forced to learn how to cook and clean and take care of himself.

For a few years, until Tony was about 9, it wasn’t all bad. Their neighbors Edwin and Ana Jarvis were a cute older couple who had married not long after WWII. They would often watch over Tony when Howard was working because they disapproved of simply leaving him home alone and they couldn’t afford daycare or a babysitter. They were happy to watch Tony, always saying that it was nice to have kids around the house again as their only son hadn’t had any children before he was killed back in Vietnam. Tony sometimes overheard them arguing angrily over his father, always threatening to call CPS on him for child neglect. But Tony had nowhere else to go with no other living relatives, and they figured so long as they were around to keep an eye on him it wouldn’t get too bad.

And then Jarvis had gotten sick. Pancreatic cancer, advanced, and he deteriorated quickly. After Jarvis died, Ana couldn’t afford to live in the trailer park alone and had been forced to move in with a friend in New York. Tony could remember her crying over him as she’d said goodbye that day, telling him how much she would miss him. A couple years later Howard had gotten a call that she’d died in her sleep of old age.

The six or seven years since then were when things got interesting. Tony spent most of the days at school and Howard worked every day of the week including weekends, so they didn’t really see each other much. When they did see each other, though, Howard would make sure to tell Tony how useless he was, how he could never do anything right, and that he was a disgrace who had killed his own mother. Tony simply took it for a couple years until finally, at 14, he started shouting back.

That was the first time Howard had hit him.

He didn’t get his often, and when he did he tried to cover up the bruises. Told Rhodey, his best friend since 5th grade, that he was clumsy. Told teachers he got into fights outside of school. And he stopped talking back so much, but made sure he got really good a ducking for when he did.

Now that Tony was 16, almost 17, Howard had calmed down a bit. Maybe he realized Tony was getting big enough to punch back. Either way, he didn’t really hit Tony, just called him names and ordered him around. And when he was hit, it was just a little smacking around that only left the occasional bruise. That made it easier to hide the abuse.

Not that it didn’t still make Steve suspicious. Good, beautiful, gracious, _gorgeous_ Steve Rogers, Tony’s secret boyfriend. Secret from Howard, at least. They had met in 8th grade when Steve and his mom had moved to Oklahoma when Steve’s dad was killed in Iraq, and they had been inseparable ever since. Once they got to high school (and after Steve had hit some wild miraculous growth spurt and was suddenly taller than Tony which was _bullshit_ ) they started dating and they had been together ever since.

Steve was… Steve was the only thing that kept Tony from running away from this lame ass town most days. Steve was someone who understood, who listened when Tony ranted and raved, who didn’t get upset when Tony needed to be secretive or flaky because of the fear that Howard might find out. Steve was more than happy to listen to Tony rant about Howard’s bullshit, getting angry on Tony’s behalf and always threatening to beat Howard up if Tony really wanted him to. Being with Steve was probably the safest he had felt being with anyone since before Jarvis died and he loved Steve with his entire being.

Through Steve he had found friendship wit Sam and Bucky and Bruce, and he had discovered what a mother’s love was truly like through Steve’s mother, Sarah. Tony _loved_ Sarah Rogers, nearly worshiped the ground she walked on. She was a strong, formidable woman, tough as nails and always knew what to say when he needed it, and always knew when to stay silent and simply offer food and a hug when he needed that too.

Steve was Tony’s shining beacon through the hell that was growing up with Howard, and he couldn’t wait until he was 18 so he could leave his father behind and escape this town with Steve by his side.

Tony had just finished putting the plate with the pancakes on the table when Howard’s bedroom door swung open and his father came scowling out of the room, his _Stark’s Garage_ coveralls already on.

Tony stood quietly with his arms at his sides as he watched Howard stalk forward and collapse into the dining chair, mechanically scooping the various breakfast foods onto his plate. He took his time putting butter on his pancakes and drowning pretty much everything on his plate in syrup. After what felt like hours of suffocating, awkward silence, Howard finally took a bite of his food. He sat back and regarded Tony with a speculative side eye as he chewed.

“Are you gonna eat?” Howard finally grumbled through his mouth full of food.

Tony sagged slightly in relief, taking Howard’s lack of anger as a sign that he hadn’t burnt any of the food and had cooked everything to his liking. Relieved that he wouldn’t have to text Rhodey and ask him to bring Tony some food to homeroom so he could eat before lunch, he took a seat at the table and started gingerly loading up his plate.

The silence continued while they ate, which Tony was relieved for because it meant Howard was in a pretty decent mood. Tony had just about finished eating when Howard spoke up again.

“I get off work early tonight, so come straight home after school,” Howard grumbled, “I expect dinner to be ready and on the table by the time I get home.”

“Yes, sir,” Tony said, draining the last dregs of his coffee cup.

“Good. Now get out,” Howard said as he stood to get ready for work, “I don’t need that school of yours calling me to bitch about you being late again.”

Tony didn’t waste any time at the dismissal and quickly got up to put his dishes in the dishwasher before running to his room to get his backpack. Once he was sure he had everything together he grabbed his keys and was quick to get out the door before his dad decided to say anything else.

As he shut the door, he heard a small, squeaky voice pipe up from behind him.

“Mr. Tony! You gotta help me, I missed the bus again!”

Tony turned with a smile, his eyes softening as they fell on the five year old in front of him.

“Hey, short stack,” Tony said, ruffling Peter’s hair. Peter Parker was a new kid in the park, him and his aunt and uncle moving in just the summer previously. They both had to work a lot, so Tony offered to watch over Peter some times while they were gone.

“Uncle Ben already left for work, and May needs to leave too so she asked me to ask you,” Peter said, looking up at Tony with wide, earnest eyes.

“Sure, you can hitch a ride with me,” Tony said, nodding at May Parker from where she was standing in her scrubs by her car, giving her a wave to let her know Peter was going with him. She nodded gratefully and quickly got into her car to drive to work.

A few minutes later and Tony and Peter were in Tony’s pick up on the 30 minute drive to school, Tony lowly playing AC/DC through the radio while Peter drew something in his notebook.

“Whatcha working on, Pete?” Tony said, glancing over the boy in the passenger seat.

“It’s a spider!” Peter said, holding up his notebook to show a crude drawing of a blue, red, and black spider. “It’s a magic spider! If you get bit, you get special magic powers!”

“Magic powers, huh?” Tony asked amused. “If I get bit can I climb walls like a spider or somethin’?”

“Mhm!” Peter hummed, turning back to his drawing, “and you can shoot webs, and stick to stuff! And jump really high! And you can…”

Tony smiled as he listened to the little boy beside him ramble on about his magic spider. Peter reminded Tony of himself when he was younger, before his father had really started burying himself in the bottle, before Jarvis had died and Ana moved away. Before his dad had really started to hate him. But it was also refreshing, to see Peter be so young and innocent and not be afraid of doing something or saying anything wrong. He let himself get lost in the innocent, childlike rambles from Peter as they continued driving to the school.

* * *

 

After walking Peter to his classroom in the elementary school building, Tony sped to his parking spot in the student parking lot and ran inside the school before the bell for homeroom rang.

Running to his locker he noticed someone standing in front of theirs trying to organize their textbooks, and Tony immediately ran over to him with a smile.

“You’re not smart enough to being reading that,” Tony said, voice teasing as he looked over the boy’s shoulder to see his AP Engineering textbook.

“Ha-ha,” Rhodey said sarcastically, shoving the boys face away from his shoulder, “very clever, you’re hilarious.”

“I know,” Tony said with a smile, walking around Rhodey to his locker a couple feet away and twisting the code into the lock, “I’m a pleasure to be around.”

“Oh, you’re something alright,” Rhodey said with a roll of his eyes, though the fondness held within them belayed the effect.

“Hey, where’s your better half?”

Tony made a noise of indignation, swinging his locker open dramatically while looking at Rhodey with a scandalized look.

“I beg your pardon!” Tony exclaimed dramatically, putting his hand over his heart in shock. “I am an absolute joy and obviously the better of the two of us!”

“While I agree with the sentiment, you have to admit I do cause James a lot less trouble than you do,” an amused voice spoke from behind the locker door.

Tony flung the locker shut and was greeted with the gorgeous face of his boyfriend, smirk on his lips and eyes glinting mischievously.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tony said with a smile, “I have never done anything wrong, ever, in my life.”

“I know this, and I love you,” Steve replied, leaning forward to press a kiss against Tony’s lips.

“Damn Tones, you’ve really brainwashed this white boy, huh,” Rhodey laughed, shutting his locker and turning to them with amusement.

“I have him perfectly trained,” Tony joked, reciprocating Steve’s kiss with his own.

“You two are disgusting,” Rhodey said, lifting his backpack strap up onto his shoulder.

“You’re just jealous, honeybear,” Tony said, twisting in Steve’s arms to glance back at the other man, “ I keep telling you, it’s not necessary. You’re welcome to join up. I have two hands.”

“Ugh,” Rhodey made a face, shoving Tony’s head back toward Steve’s, “why do you always gotta make everything weird?”

“You love me and you know it!” Tony called after him as the boy walked away. Tony turned back to look at Steve, who was staring down at Tony with fond eyes and an amused grin.

“One day I’ll get him to realize he is totally and completely in love with me,” Tony said seriously.

Steve nodded, reaching down the grab Tony’s backpack and sling it onto his shoulder before taking Tony’s hand.

“At least when that day comes and you leave me I’ll know you’re going to someone who will take care of you,” Steve said sagely, pulling Tony’s hand to start them walking toward homeroom.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Tony grinned, leaning into Steve’s side, “I think I could probably be convinced to stay given the right amount of persuasion.”

“Hmm,” Steve pretended to consider, “would my mom’s barbecue chicken persuade you? I have football practice tomorrow but after you could come over for dinner and we can watch a movie?”

“Ooh, you do know I love Sarah’s barbecue,” Tony hedged.

They came up upon Tony’s homeroom and stopped in front of the lockers beside the door.

“I’ll have to ask my dad,” Tony said quietly, “but he seemed like he was in a decent mood this morning so. Maybe he’ll go for it.”

“Alright. Just text me and let me know so I can tell Ma.”

Tony nodded and leaned in to give Steve a quick peck on the lips.

“No PDA in the hallways, Mr. Stark,” a voice said right beside.

“Jesus _Christ,_ Phil,” Tony jumped back, his heart racing. His homeroom teacher, Phil Coulson, was standing not even two steps away from them, his face as calm and mild as ever.

“You can’t just sneak up on people like that! Why are you always so creepy? Do you even make noise?”

“Well, _Mr. Coulson,_ is just trying to make sure all his students are following the rules.”

Tony blinked, face blank.

“Why are you talking about yourself in the third person, Phil? That’s weird.”

“Just get to homeroom, Tony, before I mark you tardy,” Mr. Coulson said with a sigh, “you too Mr. Rogers.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mr. Coulson gave Tony a pointed look before turning and walking into his classroom.

“I’m still convinced that man used to be a government spy,” Tony said, taking his backpack from Steve and slinging it over his shoulder.

“Of course he was, honey,” Steve said placating as he leaned in to press a quick kiss to Tony’s cheek, “I’ll see you later.”

“Wait!” Tony grabbed Steve’s arm and Steve stopped to look back at him.

“Can you meet me outside chem lab at the end of your lunch period? I want to show you something.”

“Okay,” Steve agreed, squeezing Tony’s hand before letting go and walking away, “now go to class before you’re late.”

“Yes, mom,” Tony said with a roll of his eyes. The smile on his face betrayed his amusement.

* * *

 

Toward the end of Steve’s lunch period he said goodbye to his friend’s Bucky and Sam and left them behind making kissy faces at him behind his back to go find Tony. When he had gotten to the chem lab classroom, he found Tony standing outside fiddling with his phone, backpack on his back.

“Don’t you have class right now?” Steve asked, smiling a little when Tony jumped at his voice.

“Why is everyone sneaking up on me today?” Tony griped. “Technically I do, but it’s just American Literature and no one actually cares about that.”

“You’re going to get detention again,” Steve warned, but followed Tony anyway when he walked to the chem lab door and pulled a key out of his pocket.

“Where did you get that?”

“Stole it from Dr. Richards,” Tony replied easily, using the key to unlock the door and push it open, “he may be smart, but the dude is a pretentious scatterbrain. He gets so lost in his science he forgets about everything else. He’ll probably think he lost them.”

“Tony, what are we doing?” Steve asked, stepping inside. Tony shut the door behind them and left the lights off.

“Nothing,” Tony tossed the keys onto the counter and turned back to Steve.

“Bruce said this room is empty during 6th period so I figured we could just… come in here and hang out.”

The bell rang over the intercom and soon students from the lunchroom and other classrooms could be heard clamoring into the hallways trying to get to their next class.

“Tony, we shouldn’t be skipping classes,” Steve tried to argue. Tony shrugged and hoisted himself up onto a lab table. “What if we get caught? They might call your dad.”

Tony let out a humorless chuckle.

“He won’t care. They’ve called him before when I skip and he just says that if I’m not going to give a shit about my education then he sure as hell isn’t.”

Steve said nothing, watching Tony for a moment before putting his backpack down on a lab table stool and walking over to where Tony sat.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked quietly, leaning down to catch Tony’s eye from where his head hung down.

“Nothing really,” Tony admitted, picking at a hole in the knee of his jeans, “just the same old stuff I guess.”

Steve nodded, waiting for Tony to gather his thoughts.

“I just… I feel like I’m so beyond this,” Tony said with frustration, “I never want to go to class because I’m _bored_ . I’m not being challenged. Everything they’re teaching me I already know. I’m smarter than this, there isn’t anything left here that they could teach me. And I’m not just-- just saying that to be a dick or to brag or something, it’s just the _truth_.”

“I know,” Steve said quietly. Distantly he heard the late bell ring and the halls outside got quiet as classroom doors shut.

“But I can’t go anywhere because we can’t afford it,” Tony grumbled, “and even if I did get a scholarship somewhere I would need my father’s permission to go because I’m not 18 and we both know he isn’t letting me go anywhere.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. He lifted a hand and brushed his knuckles down Tony’s cheek. “I’m sorry, love.”

“It’s not your fault,” Tony grabbed Steve’s hand and held it in both of his, “you’re probably one of the only things in this damn town that makes living here bearable. You and your mom, Rhodey, and everyone.”

“Still… I know it’s rough feeling like your trapped in a helpless situation you feel like you have no control over.”

“Yeah. I just--” Tony sighed. “I feel like I’m wasting my time with stuff like high school. I’m wasting my talents in this town and I’m stuck here for the next two years with nothing to look forward to but placating my asshole alcoholic father.”

“Hey, look at me,” Steve said, putting a finger on Tony’s chin and lifting his head so he was looking into Steve’s eyes.

“Yes, you’re dad is dick,” Steve started gently, “and I’m sorry there isn’t more we can do to help you. But you won’t be alone, okay? You’ll have me, and Rhodey… Bruce, Sam, Bucky… you have us. Plus, I know Rhodey has told you that you’re always welcome at his house, and you’re certainly always welcome at mine as well. You know my Ma adores you.”

Tony smiled.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck,” Steve sighed, cupping Tony’s cheek, “but you’re not alone. And after we graduate then we are going to go far away from here. You’ll get some crazy full ride scholarship to-- to Harvard or MIT and I’ll get a sports scholarship so I can at least end up somewhere near where you go. And then you’ll never have to see your dad ever again.”

Tony was quiet for a moment, smiling in adoration at Steve, hand still squeezing one of Steve’s own.

“Or an art scholarship,” Tony said quietly, “you could get into art school somewhere.”

“Maybe,” Steve conceded, though the face he made indicated he believed otherwise. Tony decided to come back to that one later.

“Thank you,” Tony said, pulling on Steve’s hand and moving him until he was standing between Tony’s legs at the lab table. He wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck and leaned his forehead against the other boy’s.

“You’re welcome,” Steve whispered, pressing his lips to Tony’s gently.

They stayed like that for a few moments, holding each other and kissing on the lab table in the darkness of the chem lab.

They quickly jumped apart, however, when they heard a click from the other side of the room and suddenly the room was flooded with bright fluorescent white lights. Steve spun around, standing in front of Tony as if to defend him as Tony ended up toppling backwards onto the table top.

“Well, well, well,” a woman said from her spot in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest and disapproval on her face.

“If it isn't Tony Stark… and Steve Rogers.”

“Mrs. Hanson!” Steve exclaimed, dread filling his stomach as he looked back at Tony.

Mrs. Hanson was a biology teacher who seemed to have a grudge against Tony. She was always giving him detention or calling him out for some kind of behavior in class or in the hallways. To be fair, Tony did tend to question nearly everything she ever taught in class, always insisting that she had said something wrong or mixed up some kind of information. Secretly Steve could understand why that might cause some tension, but he didn’t agree with her always taking it out on Tony and trying to get him into trouble.

“Skipping class today, are we boys?”

“Uh,” Tony said eloquently from his place on the table top, “would you believe me if I said no?”

“No,” Mrs. Hanson deadpanned.

“Skipping class means a detention boys, and considering the nature of the activities going on it looks like I’ll have to be making a couple phone calls home.”

“No!” Tony exclaimed, his face turning three shades paler as he jumped down from the lab table. Steve could feel his own face drain a shade or two.

If Howard found out about him and Tony…

“Please, Mrs. Hanson,” Tony begged, “I’ll take the detention, I’ll take a whole week of detention if that’s what it takes, but _please_ don’t tell my dad what we were doing.”

“Sorry, Mr. Stark,” Mrs. Hanson said, though she really didn’t look too sorry at all, “if you didn’t want to get caught you shouldn’t have skipped in the first place. I’ll have to call both your parents and let them know what you’ve done, boys.”

“Mrs. Hanson,” Steve tried, “couldn’t we--”

“You boys better stop arguing unless you want that detention to turn into a suspension,” Mrs. Hanson warned. She stepped away from the doorway and gestured for the two boys to walk out of the room.

“Come on. We’re going to the principal's office.”

Steve watched Tony sigh in defeat and go to grab his backpack. Steve snatched his up as well and was quick to follow Tony and Mrs. Hanson out the door and to the front office.

Once in the office, Steve could see Tony panicking silently as they waited for their detention slips to be written up.

“Tony, I--”

“He told me to come home straight after school today, Steve,” Tony whispered, turning to look at Steve with wide eyes, “he’s already going to be mad that I’ll be home late. But if he finds out? About us? I don’t know what he’s going to do, Steve.”

Tony buried his face in his hands and tried not to let anyone see his shoulders shake. Steve reached forward to rub his hand along Tony’s arm and shoulder, feeling more helpless than he had in awhile.

* * *

 

Tony tried to keep his hands from shaking as he drove home from school later that afternoon. His heart was pounding in his chest and he felt his stomach churn with nerves and nausea as he thought about what might be waiting for him when he gets home.

_“I’ll have to call both your parents and let them know what you’ve done, boys.”_

Tony swallowed heavily. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. Maybe Mrs. Hanson called and his father, caught up in work, hadn’t picked up. Maybe she only told his father that he had skipped class, not what he was skipping class to do. Maybe his father wouldn’t find out about Steve, wouldn’t find out that Tony was… that him and Steve were….

Maybe his dad still didn’t know. Then he could be working himself up for nothing.

 _Well_ , he thought as he looked at the clock on his dashboard, _not nothing_.

_5:58 PM_

Tony hadn’t been able to leave detention until after five. And even driving the fastest he could go, he knew he wouldn’t make it home before Howard did. And he knew that if he wasn’t home with dinner on the table when Howard got home like he’d told Tony to, well…. Either way, tonight was not going to be a good night. But with any luck things won’t be as bad as Tony is imagining them to be.

Of course, Tony was never really known for being lucky.

He turned into the trailer park and parked his car in the dirt driveway by his house, trying to ignore the stone cold dread in his stomach as he looked at his father’s car already parked beside it.

_Here goes nothing._

He grabs his backpack from the passenger seat and slides out of the truck slowly, taking his time and trying to make the walk from his car to his pending doom inside the house last that much longer.

He dragged his feet up the stairs and put his hand on the front door, closing his eyes and taking a moment to prepare himself for what he might find inside. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

Immediately he was greeted by the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Knowing Howard would be waiting for him, he quickly stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He turned slowly, and sure enough sitting in a chair at the kitchen table, whisky bottle already a quarter of the way gone, was Howard.

Tony stood frozen by the door as he watched Howard lift his cigarette to take a drag.

“What did I tell you before you left this morning?” Howard asked quietly after a moment.

Tony said nothing, he simply stood and watched his father apprehensively, his hand clenching and unclenching on the backpack strap on his shoulder.

“When I ask you a question you answer it, boy,” Howard said lowly, voice threatening, “what did I say?”

“Come straight home after school,” Tony said quietly.

“You better stop with that mumbling and speak up.”

“You said come straight home after school, sir,” Tony said again, louder.

“And?”

“To… to have dinner ready… when you got home.”

“I said _speak up, dipshit_!” Howard yelled, slamming his hand on the table and rattling the whisky bottle and tumblr.

Tony flinched back involuntarily.

“To have dinner ready when you got home, sir.”

“So you do listen, huh?” Howard flicked his cigarette against the ashtray on the table.

“Then imagine my surprise when I get home to find no son and no food anywhere in this house.”

Tony kept his eyes trained on the floor.

“You disobeyed my direct orders.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I was just—“

“I didn’t ask for excuses,” Howard sneered.

Tony nodded.

“Yes, sir,” he said quietly.

Howard sat and watched the boy for a minute, taking another sip of his whiskey and taking another drag before speaking again.

“No dinner for three days,” Howard said, and Tony almost wanted to cry right there at the thought of dealing with the hunger pains that were sure to come with being denied food over a weekend.

“Now go put that shit up and make my food.”

Tony nodded and rushed to go into his room, relieved the punishment hadn’t been more severe. Sure, he may have to deal with being hungry for the next couple of days, but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with Coulson and Rhodey’s pity looks as he tried to explain away another black she next week.

He dropped his backpack onto the floor of his room and quickly ran back out to start on his father's dinner. It seemed he had gotten lucky. It appeared his father had either never received the call from his school, or they had simply told him Tony had skipped biology and he didn’t care enough about that to do anything. He pulled a frying pan out of a cabinet and went to look in the fridge to see what they had to eat. Maybe he really had escaped unscathed—

“So what’s his name?”

It felt like someone had dumped ice water on Tony’s head and he could feel it drip and trickle down through the rest of his body. He froze in front of the fridge and felt the door fall shut in front of him. He couldn’t breathe, he was so afraid to speak, to move, to turn around and see what his father would—

“I got a phone call from your school today,” Howard said. Tony stayed frozen in place by the fridge and listened to chair legs scrape on the floor as his father stood from his seat at the dining table. His steps moved slowly one by one closer to Tony.

“I wasn’t really surprised when they told me you had skipped class again. I already knew you were a lazy sack of shit who lacks ambition.”

Tony could hear his father standing behind him, could feel his father’s presence at his back. Tony’s hands clenched into fists and his body tensed further.

“What I was surprised to learn was that you weren’t alone… that there was another boy with you,” Howard continued, steps coming closer and closer until Howard was standing close enough that Tony could feel Howard’s breath in his ear.

“So what’s his name, boy? What’s the name of the boy who turned by son into a fuckin fairy?”

Tony swallowed.

“Dad, I--”

“You better look at me when I’m talking to you,” Howard growled.

Turning around was a mistake, and Tony knew that even before Howard’s fist was flying toward his face. Yet he didn’t duck, he didn’t try to fight back - he didn’t have time to think before suddenly Howard’s fist was connecting with his eye, sending him spiraling sideways away from the fridge and into the wall.

Before Tony can gather his senses he feels Howard’s hand close around his throat and lift, pushing Tony back until his head collided harshly against the wall with a _crack_.

Howard’s hand squeezed tight around Tony’s throat, and Tony could feel his air supply getting cut off. He lifted his hands to wrap around Howard’s wrist and tried to pull Howard’s hands away to no avail. Howard leaned in so close to his face that Tony could smell the whiskey on his breath.

“Dad,” Tony choked out, scrambling to pull Howards hand away.

“No son of mine is going to be a fucking _faggot_ , you hear me?” Howard yelled in Tony’s face.

“Dad,” Tony tried again, his throat sore from Howard’s bruising grip, “I- I can’t--”

“After everything I’ve done you,” Howard said, shaking Tony slightly and squeezing his hand more tightly, “after all the shit we been through, the struggles I've had. I put a roof over your head, clothes on your back, and food in your stomach, and this is your repayment?”

Tony was really starting to feel the lack of oxygen now and looked desperately around for a way to escape. His hands came up and tried to claw at Howard’s arms and neck, but Howard pulled him forward just to slam him back against the wall once more. Tony saw stars as his head connected with the wall behind him again, and he didn’t have time to regain his sight before Howard’s fist was swinging toward his face again. The punch landed right over Tony’s mouth and felt his lip cup and split on his front teeth.

“All you ever do is fuck shit up, Tony, it’s no wonder you like taking dick up your ass,” Howard growled, “why can you never do anything right, Tony? I mean, come on, you even killed your own mother.”

“Please,” Tony gasped, tears burning in his eyes and slipping down his face, “s-stop--”

“No,” Howard said, lifting a knee to hit Tony between the legs. All the air left Tony’s body in that instance as pain shot up his spine and into his stomach from between his legs, “I’ve been tolerant of your shit for too long. I’m putting an end to this tonight.”

The hand around Tony’s throat tightened and he saw white spots appear in his vision as his oxygen supply was completely cut off. Tony glanced around the room desperately looking for a way to get out of this hold.

He turned and saw there, on the counter next to them, was an empty vodka bottle left abandoned, Howard no doubt having finished it earlier. Tony fumbled getting his hand to move, but he reached out next to him and grabbed the bottle by the top and swung it around hard down on Howard’s head.

Howard jerked back in shock and stumbled to the floor, disoriented by the pain in his head from the bottle no doubt amplified by the alcohol. Tony collapsed down the wall, gasping and gulping down large gulps of air. While Howard was on the ground disoriented, Tony crawled across the floor as quickly as he possibly could, trying to get to his room before Howard got back up. His vision was still a little blurry and everything was spinning so badly Tony nearly collapsed into a dining chair, but eventually he got to his bedroom door. He reached and grasped the knob, twisting it and allowing himself to collapse into his room as the door opened.

He scrambled inside as fast as he could, turning and falling against the door to slam it shut, lifting a shaky hand to lock the knob behind him. It wouldn’t keep Howard out forever, but it would buy him enough time to get the hell out of that trailer.

He stood and stumbled to his backpack where he had tossed it on his desk. The room spun a little as he stood, only just noticing that his gasps for air from just seconds ago had turned into loud, hitching sobs. He knew he would hyperventilate soon if he didn’t get a hold on hid breathing, but he needed to get the fuck out of that house as soon as possible.

He dug around in his backpack for a moment before he finally found what he was looking for. Pulling his car keys out, he moved over to his window, flipping the latch and then pushing it open. He lifted a leg to kick out the bug screen in the window, stumbling to the side a little bit before he managed to push it out. He stumbled back, and when he gained his footing he lifted one foot over the ledge of the windowsill and then the other.

“ _ANTHONY!”_ Howard screamed from where he was pounding on Tony’s bedroom door, “ _YOU BETTER OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT FUCKIN NOW OR I SWEAR TO GOD YOU’LL LIVE TO REGRET IT!”_

“Not likely,” Tony wheezed to himself, quickly lifting his other foot and pushing off the windowsill onto the group a few feet below.

He stumbled as his feet hit the ground, his vision going white for a moment as white hot pain lit up his left ankle. Stumbling to a standing position, he limped over to his truck, unlocking the door with his key-fob as he got closer.

Once the driver’s door was open he climbed inside, slamming and locking the door behind him. He clumsily turned the key in the ignition, shifted his truck into reverse, and slammed on the gas to back out of the driveway and away from the house without even stopping to think about a seat belt. Once out of the driveway he threw the car into drive and slammed on the gas, tires squealing as he pulled out of the trailer park and drove away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, no beta because I was running out of time lol
> 
> [Art by yeomso (@scapegoatss on tumblr)](https://scapegoatss.tumblr.com/post/185375328718/ironman-big-bang-2019-is-a-go-i-had-a-great-time). Go follow them and check out their other work!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the last chapter :) I worked very hard on it and it ended up being a lot longer than I thought it'd be lol

Steve was already tired of doing chores, and he had only just started on his list of punishment chores that he had gotten for skipping class and getting detention.

 _“Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time,”_ Sarah had singsonged at him. She had a smile on her face though that let him know she wasn’t too angry.

As he scrubbed the pan in the sink he couldn’t help but think about Tony, worry about Tony. He hadn’t heard anything from the other man last time he checked his phone, and he knew that Tony should have made it home at least two hours ago.

“Hey Ma,” Steve shouted into the living room, “has Tony texted me at all?”

He heard his mom scramble around for a second before he heard a “no!” shouted back to him.

If anything that just made him more nervous. Maybe when Tony got home Howard took his phone and laptop? That had happened a couple times before in the past when Tony got caught coming home late.

That didn’t seem likely, though. With how terrified Tony was of his dad finding out about him and Steve, whatever punishment Tony imagined Howard would give him had to be really bad. All through detention today Tony was practically shaking, staring at the clock and chewing on his finger nails. Before the detention proctor could even finish saying they were free to go, Tony was already up and running out the door, not even stopping to say goodbye to Steve.

Now, Steve wasn’t stupid. No matter how much Tony tried to deny it or tried to hide his injuries, Steve still noticed when Tony came to school with a bruised cheekbone or a split eyebrow. He’d noticed the one or two times Tony had made sure to wear long sleeves, even if it was blistering hot outside. He knew Howard wasn’t a good father, and had high reason to suspect that he got physical with Tony at least occasionally. But Tony had assured him that his father had mellowed out the last couple years. That the most he did was shout and maybe throw a beer can or two. With how terrified Tony was today, maybe he shouldn’t have been so quick to believe him, though.

If he didn’t hear from Tony tonight then first thing in the morning Steve would drive over to the Stark residence himself to see what was going on, football practice be damned. Hopefully nothing bad had happened to Tony and maybe Howard had simply locked him in his room.

Maybe Steve was worrying for nothing? Maybe Howard hadn’t answered the call from the school and he didn’t know that Tony had skipped class to be with Steve, or that they had been caught kissing. Maybe for once Howard’s negligence and uncaring attitude toward his son could be used to their advantage.

Steve had just finished drying the last of the dishes and pulling the stopper out of the sink when he heart the roar of an engine outside.

“Steve,” Sarah called from the living room, “I told you, no friends tonight! You’re supposed to be getting punished!”

“I didn’t invite anyone over,” Steve said as he stepped into the living room.

Sarah’s brow furrowed in confusion as lights beamed through the window. The car outside sped into the driveway, tires squealing against the pavement as the driver slammed on the brake. Sarah, closest to the window, walked over and pulled the curtain back to peek outside.

“Is that… is that Tony’s truck?”

Steve felt his heart drop into his stomach.

“What?”

“That’s Tony’s truck,” Sarah said, moving towards the front door and yanking it open. She ran outside and Steve followed after her.

The headlights on the truck went dark as whoever was inside turned off the ignition. The drivers side door opened, and someone fell out, collapsing to the ground in a pained gasp that Steve recognized.

“ _Tony!”_

The Rogers rushed to Tony’s side where he was kneeling on the driveway, breaths coming in quick pained gasps. When Steve caught sight of Tony’s face in the light of the lamppost, he gasped and heard his mother do the same beside him.

Tony’s eye and cheekbone were swelling up and darkening into what was going to be a very deep, painful black eye. Smaller bruises were littered around his mouth, his lip split down the middle and blood dripping down his chin. Around his neck were darkening bruises that looked to be in the shape of hand prints. Tony was clearly hyperventilating, and his hands which were also covered in blood kept coming up to grasp at his throat, only to be ripped away when touching his throat apparently hurt too much.

“Tony,” Sarah said, dropping down beside him and grasping his arms to keep him from hurting himself again, “Tony, you need to breathe.”

Tony shook his head.

“I can’t--” his voice was hoarse and talking even sounded like it probably hurt, “b-breathe, I can’t--”

“If you can talk, you can breathe,” Sarah said grabbing one of Tony’s hands and holding it palm flat against her chest. “You’re breathing too much, that’s why you feel like you do. You need to take long, even breaths like me, okay? Just follow my breathing.”

She had one hand keeping Tony’s palm pressed against her chest, not even caring that he was smearing blood across her blouse, and one hand keeping Tony’s other hand from scrambling at his neck. She made sure to take deep, exaggerated breaths, breathing slowly to make sure Tony followed her lead.

Eventually Tony understood what she was doing and attempted to match his breathing to hers. Slowly but surely his breathing became less frantic, though it was still interspersed with the occasional sob.

“Just like that, sweetheart, you did so good,” Sarah said, dropping Tony’s hand and running her own through Tony’s hair. She paused when she felt a bump on the back of his head, his hair a little sticky from here he must have bled a little bit.

“Steven, come help me get him inside,” Sarah said over her shoulder.

Steve jumped into action, running over to Tony’s other side and pulling Tony’s arm over his shoulders. Sarah took the other side, and together they lifted Tony off the ground, stumbling a little when Tony pitched to the side a little bit, clearly still uneven on his feet.

They carried him up the stairs to the porch, moving slowly to keep Tony from tripping and taking all three of them down in the fall. Steve took on more of Tony’s weight as Sarah struggled to open the front door, but eventually she managed to push it open and they maneuvered their way into the house.

They lowered Tony carefully down onto the couch in the living room and Sarah took a seat on the coffee table, running her hand through Tony’s hair and trying to calm the still crying boy.

“Steve, go into my bathroom and get my first aid kit,” Sarah said quietly before turning back to Tony and shushing the boy in comfort.

Steve nodded, still feeling a little in shock, and ran into his mom’s bedroom, shoving open the bathroom door and frantically digging around in the cabinets. Eventually he pulled out the bag with the first aid supplies and ran back into the living room.

When he returned, Tony had quieted down a bit and was whimpering as Sarah used a dish towel to wipe the blood from his chin. He had one hand clenched in the couch and one hand clenched in Sarah’s blouse sleeve.

Steve set the bag down gently on the coffee table before taking a step back and watching his mother work.

She turned and opened the kit pulling out a bottle of ibuprofen and dumping a couple into her hand. She turned and held them out to Tony along with a cup of water she must have gotten from the kitchen with the dish towel.

“Here,” Sara said, gently unclenching Tony’s hand from her sleeve and dropping the medicine into it, “take these. It’ll help with the headache and the pain in your throat.”

Tony’s hand shook as he lifted the glass to his lips to swallow the pills down. As he swallowed, he made a pained face, hand jerking up to grab at his throat. Sarah grabbed it before he could and held it away.

“Sorry, I know your throat is a little tender right now but touching it will just make it hurt worse.”

Tony nodded, grimacing as it apparently aggravated his headache.

“There’s not much I can do for a split lip,” Sarah said gently, taking Tony’s chin in hand and turning it slightly so she could see every inch. “It looks like it’s already clotted. Lip injuries usually heal pretty quickly. All I can do for your eye is ice it to reduce the swelling and give you meds for the pain. Did you hit your head? I thought I felt a bump on the back.”

Tony nodded slightly, clearly trying to keep his head as still as possible to keep the pain away until the medicine kicked in.

“Okay,” Sarah nodded, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small flashlight. “I’m just going to make sure you don’t have a concussion, okay?”

Tony nodded and sat still as Sarah went through her ministrations. While his mother did her thing, Steve stepped around the coffee table to take a seat next to Tony. He didn’t turn to look at Steve, but as soon as Steve was seated Tony’s hand shot out and latched onto Steve’s wrist. Steve turned his hand over and grabbed onto Tony’s, linking their fingers together and squeezing Tony’s comfortingly between his hands.

“Your pupils are dilating fine, so I don’t think you have a concussion,” Sarah said, clicking off her flashlight and tossing it onto the coffee table. “I imagine you have quite the headache.”

“Yeah,” Tony said softly, his voice raspy.

Sarah and Steve shared a worried look as tears started to slip from Tony’s eyes once more.

“I’m sorry,” Tony whispered, wiping the tears from his cheeks, “I know I just showed up here--”

“Tony,” Sarah said gently, placing a comforting hand on Tony’s knee. He had been bouncing it without even realizing it.

“Tony, honey, what happened?”

Tony shook his head slowly, face twisting up as fresh tears poured from his eyes. He let out a gasping sob.

“I got home late because of that detention,” Tony cried, “he had told me to be home right after school because he was coming home early. He wanted me to have dinner ready, but I was late. I walked in and he was sitting at the table. He had been drinking for awhile already. He yelled at me for being late but that was all, so I thought I was off the hook. I thought maybe he didn’t answer the school’s call.”

Tony’s breathing picked up and he shook his head again. He let out another sob and lifted his hand to his mouth.

“Then he asked me who the boy was,” Tony sobbed, clutching tighter at Steve’s hand, “the boy I’d skipped class with that turned me into a- into a f-fairy.”

Steve felt red hot anger shoot up his throat from his chest. He sucked in a breath through his nose and lifted Tony’s hand to his lips, holding it there clenched between both of his.

“I didn’t say anything because I-I didn’t know what to do,” Tony continued, “when I turned around he punched me and I fell against the wall. He picked me up by my throat and held me there, but he kept squeezing harder and harder and I couldn’t breathe.”

Tony pulled his hand out of Steve’s to wrap his arms around himself in an attempt at self comfort. His breathing was growing more erratic and it was getting harder to understand him through the tears.

“He s-said no son of his would be a f- _faggot_ ,” Tony sobbed, his voice cracking, “and he kept choking me and he punched me and kneed me in the crotch when I tried to get him to stop. I was trying to get his hands off me when I saw a bottle on the counter next to me, so I grabbed it and broke it over his head. He fell to the floor and I ran to my room and locked the door. I grabbed my keys and climbed out through the window before he could get in and left.”

Steve sat in horrified silence as Tony broke down on the couch beside him. This was all Steve’s fault. He should have tried harder to get Tony to go to class, he shouldn’t have agreed to skip too. And even if they had skipped, Steve was the one who had started kissing Tony. If they hadn’t been caught kissing this would never have been a problem. Steve should have realized how much trouble they’d be in if they’d been caught. Should have realized getting caught might mean Tony’s dad would find out, something Tony had been so careful to prevent from happening.

Sarah jumped forward after Tony finished his story. She wrapped her arms around the boy and held him close as he sobbed, his hands clenched in the back of her shirt.

“I d-don’t understand,” Tony cried into her shoulder, “why does he h-hate me so much?”

“I don’t know, baby,” Sarah whispered, pressing a kiss to Tony’s forehead, “it’s okay. We’ll figure this out. We’ll get through this, I promise.”

Steve wished he knew what to do in that moment, listening to his boyfriend break down in his mother’s arms while she tried to comfort him. He’d never felt so helpless before in his life.

* * *

 

Later that night, once Tony had calmed back down again and gotten cleaned up, Tony and Steve lay together in the dark on Steve’s bed. There’s a light from the moon spilling in through the window and across the bed. They’re laying facing each other, music from Steve’s iPod playing softly in the corner.  
  
_And I’m in so deep_  
_You know I’m such a fool for you_  
_You got me wrapped around your finger_  
_Do you have to let it linger_  
  
Tony’s eyes are closed and the pale moonlight illuminates the half of his face that isn’t covered in bruises. Steve lay there, examining Tony’s face and the black eye and split lip, listens to the way his breath hitches and shakes if he breathes in too deep and tries to once again smother the burning anger he feels course through him.

 _I should have been more careful,_ he thinks, _I shouldn’t have let us get caught._  
  
Tony shifts again and sniffles a little, squirming slightly closer to Steve beneath the blanket. [Steve lifts a hand and drags his fingertips lightly down Tony’s cheekbone and onto his neck.](https://scapegoatss.tumblr.com/image/185375328718) He can’t help but let his hand linger on the finger shaped bruises there.

  
“Do you ever think about,” Tony whispers into the darkness suddenly, “about... flying away?”  
  
Tony’s eyebrows furrowed together and Steve stays silent, resting his hand against Tony’s neck and feeling his pulse.  
  
“Sometimes I do,” Tony whispers, “sometimes I... I think about growing wings and just flying high in the air, away from here. Somewhere warm where the sun always shines. Where I can... where I can see the ocean. Watch the sky turn red while the sun sets over the water. Close my eyes and hear the seagulls, feel the wind in my hair,” Tony swallows, “and nothing hurts.”  
  
Steve takes a deep breath in, running his fingers through Tony’s hair. Tony opens his eyes and Steve feels his heart clench at the unshed tears in his eyes.  
  
“I want to fly away,” Tony says, his voice hoarse, “I feel like I’m wasting away here. I don’t want to waste away, Steve.”

Steve reaches for Tony, pulling him close until Tony’s head his tucked up against his neck beneath his chin, until he can feel Tony’s wet eyelashes tickle when he blinks, can feel Tony’s hitching breaths. He rests his chin on top of Tony’s hair and holds him as close and as tight as he can without hurting his ribs while Tony shakes.

  
“Don’t let me waste away, Steve,” Tony breathes against his neck.  
  
“Never,” Steve says, clenching his eyes shut against the red hot burning behind them. Tony shakes in his arms. “We’ll fly away, Tony. We’ll fly far away from here and we’ll never look back.”

* * *

 

The next morning found Sarah Rogers sat in the dining room nursing an untouched, now cold cup of coffee as she stared down at the grain of the table.

Sarah wasn’t sure where to go from here. She had always known Howard Stark wasn’t a kind man, that there really way no lost love between him and his son, but she hadn’t thought him capable of such cruelty. She hadn’t thought him capable of beating his own son to a bloody pulp, but apparently she should have been more weary.

When Tony Stark had shown up on her doorstep last night, black and blue and bloody, crying hysterically about his father and not being able to take it anymore, it felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over her head.

She should have known. She was a medical professional, a nurse for Christ sake, she was trained in looking for signs of child abuse in injuries and general health. She’d always worried about how skinny Tony was. Yes, he was more of a lean build than the bulky muscle that was her own son, but no 16 year old year old boy should be _that_ skinny. She shouldn’t be able to feel individual ribs through the boy’s shirt when she hugged him. His cheeks were gaunt, his cheekbones sticking out in a way that had never looked quite natural.

And the bruises…

Steve had told her about the times Tony had shown up to school with the occasional split lip or black eye. He said that Tony would just brush it off, make a joke about tripping and hitting his head on his bed. He would say his lips were just really dry and had split on their own when he smiled. The one time she had actually seen him come to her house with a black eye he had simply brushed her off and refused to talk about it any more. Said him and Rhodey had been roughhousing and had gotten a little out of control. And she’d believed him.

That changed today though. She was no longer going to take a backseat and be complacent while a boy that she loved, her son’s boyfriend and one of his best friends, was tormented by his own father. She would do what she had to do to make sure Tony would never have to go back to that man ever again. She hoped Tony would let her help him however she could, and if he had a problem with it, well, she’d do it anyway. Let him be mad at her. There were places that he could go that weren’t with his father. She would make sure of it.

She was dragged from her musing when she heard footsteps shuffling down the hallway, and she looked up right as Steve rounded the corner still in his pajamas, bedhead on fully display, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Hey,” she said quietly while he sat on the couch next to her. He leaned his head on her shoulder and she wrapped her arm around his shoulders.

“I called Coach Philips,” Steve said, playing with a string on his pajama pants, “told him I wouldn’t be at practice today because of a family emergency. He grumbled a bit but he said it was okay.”

“Alright,” she whispered, placing a kiss to his forehead, “is Tony still asleep?”

“Yeah. We didn’t fall asleep until almost 3 AM, so I figured it’d be best to let him sleep in.”

Sarah nodded and began running her hand up and down Steve’s arm. They sat in the quiet of the house, listening to the chirping of birds outside while Sarah sipped at her coffee.

“What’s gonna happen now, Ma?” Steve asked quietly, shifting to look her in the eye. “What do we do?”

She said nothing for a moment, smiling sadly down at her son and lifting her hand to brush his hair from his forehead. He smiled a bit and leaned into the touch.

“When Tony wakes up, we’re going to give him breakfast, change any band aids or bandages, and make sure he’s alright,” she shifted to stare blankly at a stain on the coffee table, “then we’re going to take pictures of his injuries so we can have them documented. And then I’m going to call Child Protective Services and the police so they can go arrest that man.”

“Wait,” Steve sat up and pulled away to look at his mother head-on, “CPS?”

“You saw what Howard did to Tony, Steve,” Sarah said with a frown, “Tony is still a minor. If we call CPS and show them the evidence, they might be able to get the police down there to arrest Howard.”

“But what happens to Tony if Howard gets arrested?” Steve asked, brow furrowed. “He doesn’t have any other relatives. What if they try to put him in the system? Send him to a foster home somewhere else in the state?”

“I won’t let that happen,” Sarah reassured him, reaching out to cup Steve’s cheek, “I will make sure they know that I am personally willing to take on temporary guardianship of Tony if it means he stays out of foster care, okay?”

Steve said nothing, his blue eyes staring searchingly into Sarah’s own identical pair.

“Tony’s going to hate this,” Steve said quietly, “all he’s ever had was his dad. His whole life is about to change.”

“That’s a _good_ thing, Steve,” Sarah stressed, “what Howard did, what I suspect Howard has always done, is _wrong._ He doesn’t need that monster. He never has. Getting him out of that house is going to save him. What if we do nothing? He could go back and Howard could do this again, or… or _worse_.”

Steve nodded, sniffling slightly. He turned away, but not before Sarah saw the moisture gathering in his eyes.

“Oh, baby, come here,” Sarah said, reaching out and pulling Steve down until his head was resting on her chest.

Steve went willingly, sniffling stronger now as he lifted a hand to wipe at his eyes.

“This is so unfair,” Steve cried quietly, “Tony… Tony doesn’t deserve this.”

“I know, baby,” Sarah whispered, running her hands up and down Steve’s back, “no one does. He’s such a sweet boy, I don’t understand how anyone could be incapable of loving him.”

“I love him so much, Ma,” Steve whispered brokenly, “I hate seeing him like this. I hate seeing him suffer so much.”

“Me too, sweetheart. Me too.”

Sarah sat on the couch holding her son for a while, running her hands up and down his back in comfort and kissing his forehead. Now that her little boy was growing up she didn’t get to enjoy this as often, and she always treasured having these moments with him.

Eventually Steve pulled back and made to stand up.

“I should go wake him up,” Steve said, nodding toward the hallway.

Sarah grabbed his hand as he started to stand.

“Hey,” she said quietly, squeezing his hand tight, “you know I love you, right? I love you so much, and there is nothing you could ever do to make me hurt you. No matter how mad I get, I would never hurt you. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do, Mama,” Steve reassured her, squeezing her hand back. He quickly bent over to press a quick kiss to her cheek.

“I love you, too.”

* * *

 

“Tony, you shouldn’t be doing this,” Steve said again as he watched Tony pull on one of Steve’s button ups.

“There’s stuff at the house that I need to get,” Tony said, digging around Steve’s room looking for his car keys, “clothes, homework, I forgot my phone, toothbrush--”

“We can buy you a new toothbrush and things--”

“Yeah, but you can’t buy me new homework,” Tony said, grabbing his keys from under Steve’s hoodie on the floor, “and I can’t just wear your clothes for the foreseeable future, you’re bigger than me.”

“I don’t know,” Steve grumbled as he uncrossed his arms and shoved his hands into his pockets, “I think you look alright.”

“I know you do,” Tony smiled, moving to stand in front of his boyfriend, “but I like my own clothes.”

Steve frowned as he examined the face of his boyfriend. He felt his throat clench as he looked at the large black eye and the split bottom lip. He lifted one hand to cup Tony’s cheek, gently running his thumb along Tony’s jaw. The corners of Tony’s lips twitched and he leaned into the touch, keeping his eyes on Steve’s.

“I don’t want you going back to that place,” Steve whispered.

“I’ll be okay,” Tony whispered back, pressing a kiss to Steve’s thumb.

“It’s only--” Tony grabbed Steve’s arm and turned it over to look at his watch, “--10:30. Dad goes into work at 7 and he won’t get back until 5. That leaves me plenty of time to go get my stuff. And then when I get back… I’ll let your mom call the police.”

Steve had been right when he’d said Tony would hate calling CPS and the cops, at least partially. Tony claimed he didn’t care what happened to Howard now, though Steve heard the slight wobble in his voice when he’d said it. It was understandable, really. Howard may have been an abusive asshole, but he was still the only family Tony had left, the man who had raised Tony since he was a baby. Even if Tony did hate him for what he’d done, he still cared about the man a little bit because he was his father.

More than that though, Tony said he didn’t want his whole life to change. Calling CPS would most likely result in Howard being arrested for child abuse, and then Tony’s whole life would get shaken up. If he didn’t live with Howard, where was he supposed to go? Even though Sarah had assured Tony that they wouldn’t let him get sent away, he was still apprehensive.

And what would everyone else think? The town they lived in was a small one, and Howard’s auto shop was well known within it. If Howard got arrested word would spread quickly, and then Tony would become the gossip of the town. The poor, abused, trailer park boy who couldn’t even defend himself against his father, Tony had said. Steve and Sarah tried to reassure him that that would never happen, but Tony hadn’t been completely convinced. Eventually Tony had gotten Sarah to agree to give him a few hours to prepare himself before they finally made the call.

Which is what landed Steve in the situation he was in now.

“We should call them now,” Steve argued, grabbing Tony’s hand, “they can take you to get your stuff later, after they take him in. It’ll be safer.”

“No,” Tony said, shaking his head, “I’m going to go and get my stuff myself. He’s at work, Steve, he’ll never even know I was there. I just…”

Tony sighed, and lifted a hand to rub through his hair.

“Let me go and get my stuff,” Tony said quietly, eyes bright and a little scared, “I’ll come right back here after. I just… I just want things to feel normal for a little bit longer before my whole life goes up the flip side.”

Steve let out a deep sigh and leaned forward to press a kiss to Tony’s forehead.

“At least let me come with you,” Steve tried one last time.

“No,” Tony whispered, “I have to do this myself. I promise, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Steve said quietly, knowing that Tony just needed to feel like he had some control over the situation. He also knew Tony would be more comfortable if he had his own things. He didn’t like it though.

“Text me when you get your phone so I know you’re safe. And if your dad is still home then you turn right back around and come back, forget about your stuff, okay?”

“Okay,” Tony said with an smile. He stood up on his tiptoes and wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, resting his forehead against Steve’s. Steve lifted his arms to wrap around Tony’s waist and stared into the deep brown of Tony’s eyes, brows furrowed together, frown on his face.

Tony pressed his forehead harder against Steve’s, pulling his face into an exaggerated angry frown that Steve knew had to hurt the bruises around his eye and cheek and pull at the cut on his lip.

“Mr. Grumpy Face,” Tony teased quietly through an exaggerated pout.

Steve rolled his eyes but he felt the smile pulling at his lips as he watched Tony tease him.

“There it is,” Tony said with a grin, leaning forward to peck Steve on the lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Steve sighed, giving Tony another quick peck before pulling back.

“You should go,” Steve said, “it’s an hour drive back to your place and who knows how long it’ll take you to pack everything.”

“Yeah, okay,” Tony sighed and grabbed his keys and made his way towards the living room.

“And be careful while you drive,” Steve said, watching Tony leave with nervous eyes as they walked through the house, “there’s supposed to be a storm today and I don’t know how bad it’ll be.”

“O _kay,_ ” Tony said exasperatedly, though there was a fond smile on his face.

“Sorry. I just worry about you,” Steve said quietly, stuffing his hands back in his pockets and leaning against the wall of the small entryway.

Tony turned and leaned up to press a kiss to Steve’s jaw.

“I know you do,” Tony said before turning towards the door. He looked back to Steve and took in the worried furrow of his brow and tried to smile encouragingly.

“Don’t worry,” Tony said, pulling the door open, “I’ll be fine.”

As he turned to walk out onto the porch and walk down the steps to his car, he tried to ignore the nervous pit in his own stomach. He just wished he could believe his own words.

* * *

 

The clouds slowly got darker and the wind grew stronger the closer Tony got to his own house. He knew he’d have to move quickly if he didn’t want to get stuck at the house until the storm passed - he needed to be long gone before Howard returned from work.

Though, that was apparently something Tony needn't have worried about, he realized as dread filled his stomach when he pulled up to the house. There, sitting deceptively peacefully in the driveway, was Howard’s truck.

Tony turned the wheel and pulled into the driveway behind his father’s truck. His knuckles were white from how tightly he gripped the steering wheel. He sat for a moment, staring at the license plate and trying to control his breathing.

He closed his eyes.

He knew he should turn around. He knew he should just leave and go back to Steve’s house, try and come back another day.

But… he didn’t want to leave and come back later. He didn’t want to run away, tail tucked between his legs like a cowering dog. He didn’t want Howard to have that amount of power over him.

Tony turned off the ignition and climbed out of the car before he could change his mind. The clouds above were getting darker and darker, and the wind was blowing so strong he could already see shingles peeling back from the roof of their trailer. He had to move quickly if he wanted to get his stuff and get out without his dad noticing.

He hurried around the side of the trailer, lifting an arm to block the wind billowing into his face. He sent a silent prayer to anyone who was listening that Howard hadn’t shut his bedroom window after Tony climbed out last night. If he could climb in through the window he could get his stuff and get back out again before his dad even noticed he’d returned.

Rounding the corner he let out a sigh of relief at the sight of his open window. Once he was standing underneath it, he jumped up to grab the ledge and hoist himself up like he had done before when sneaking back into the house.

Careful not to make much noise, he pulled himself up and over the edge, pushing himself through the window so he could grab the headboard of his bed and pull himself the rest of the way in. He let out a silent huff as his feet finally fell through, wincing as they banged against the wall. He held himself as still as possible as he listened for movement in the other rooms, but after a moment of silence he pulled himself up to his feet.

Tony ran over to his bed, grabbing his backpack from where he left it and shoving all textbooks and notebooks from his desk into it, along with his laptop. He ran to his closet and grabbed an old duffle bag from the ground and started shoving clothes in it at random, trying to get back out of the trailer as quickly as possible.

Cursing when he couldn’t find his phone, he started scouring the room to try and find it. He dug around his bed and searched underneath, looked in all the drawers in his desk but couldn’t find it. He had just grabbed his backpack to try searching through it when he heard a cracking sound and a bang come from the living room outside his door.

He froze. He could hear something whistling in the living room as more, quieter banging was heard through the wall. He glanced down at the bag in his hand, contemplating just leaving his phone behind and buying a new one on eBay.

He jumped when a large, strong gust of wind blew through the open window behind him, blowing over his desk chair and knocking it down with a loud, resonating _bang_.

His heart jumped into his throat and he felt a nervous sweat break out across his brow. He froze, eyes darting back and forth between his bedroom door, the chair, and his window. He waited for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes for his father to come barging into the room to start attacking him again. But after a few moments passed, Tony didn’t hear any new movement outside his door and he ran over to close his window, struggling against the wind.

Eventually he got the window shut and turned back to continue packing. He had just decided to leave his toiletries behind, figuring he could buy new ones, when he remembered something that nearly made him groan out loud.

He had to go to the bathroom. He’d hidden his money stash in the toilet’s tank.

Normally he wouldn’t worry about it, but if he was going to end up potentially living on his own without his father to pay for things, he was going to need the money. And he had originally started saving it for precisely this kind of emergency _years_ ago, if he ever needed to run away. There was nearly $3,000 hidden in there, him saving up from doing odd jobs around town or working in his father’s shop.

And if this much noise had been made already and Howard hadn’t gone to investigate, maybe he wasn’t home after all? Maybe he had gotten a ride to work with one of his employees? Maybe he had drunk himself into a stupor last night and he was still passed out in bed? Maybe he was out of the house looking for Tony?

Tony tiptoed over to his door and pressed his ear against it. Aside from the faint whistling and banging that had been going on for a few minutes, he couldn’t hear any movement. He put his hand on the doorknob and bit his lip, contemplating.

He’d told Steve he’d turn around and come back if his father was home, and he’d already broken that promise. He could still grab all his stuff now and just leave the house once he found his phone.

But… $3,000 was a lot. And he’d worked his ass off saving up all that money for nearly 6 years. He knew Steve was going to kill him if he found out what Tony had done, but he could really use that money if Howard was going to be out of the picture soon.

Mind made up, he turned the knob as slowly as possible and pulled the door back just a crack. Peeking out into the kitchen and dining room he didn’t see anyone. He pulled the door open wider and poked his head out. His father’s door was still shut, so if he was home he was most likely still in there. He just had to make sure he was as quiet as possible walking past the--

Tony froze again when heard the sound of bottles clinking from the living room. He swung around to look down the hall toward the living room, and gaped at what he saw.

The wind outside was apparently strong enough now that it had blown his front door wide open, and it swung back and forth as more wind blew through the doorway, causing the whistling sounds he’d been hearing.

He looked toward the bottles rolling around on the floor by the couch and his breath caught in his throat.

His father was home, yes, but he wasn't in his room. He was laying passed out on the couch, empty bottles of beer and vodka rolling around on the ground as the wind from the door blew in their direction.

This worked perfectly for him. He didn’t need to be quiet at all if even the door blasting wide open wasn’t enough to rouse his father. He took a step out of his room and toward the bathroom--

A loud wailing siren suddenly started blaring through the air.

 _Shit,_ Tony thought, glancing frantically back into his room and then to the swinging front door, _tornado warning._

If the siren was going off that meant a tornado had been spotted forming nearby and he needed to get out of here fast. He turned to run back into his room to grab his bags before he froze again.

 _I can’t… I can’t just leave him there_ , Tony thought, glancing back at his father on the couch. He knew he wouldn’t be able to carry his father, and he knew that if a tornado was touching down close enough for the tornado siren to be going off then Howard would be in danger if he stayed in their dinky little trailer.

 _He’d deserve it though,_ some part of Tony’s mind whispered to him, _after everything he’s done to you, he deserves to suffer._

“He’s still my father,” Tony whispered to himself.

Running in his room to grab his duffel bag and backpack, he turned and ran out the front door to toss his bags into his truck. Turning back around, he ran into the house, fighting back against the gusts of wind trying to blow him over.

He kicked the bottles out of his way as he made his way over to the couch.

He stood over his father for a minute, glancing back at the front doorway behind him, before squaring his shoulders and reaching down to try and wake him.

 _No one deserves this,_ Tony fought to remind himself.

“Dad,” he said quietly, reaching out to tentatively shake Howard’s shoulder, “Dad, you gotta get up. There’s a tornado coming, we need to go.”

Howard didn’t shift at all, didn’t even so much as sniffle.

“Wake up,” Tony said, shaking Howard’s shoulder back and forth roughly, beginning to panic a bit, “come _on,_ you dick, wake _up!”_

He gave up the shaking and started smacking Howard’s face trying to get him to rouse.

“Come on, come _on,_ ” Tony cried out, slapping Howard across the face and not receiving even a twitch.

Suddenly the window behind him shattered loudly as a the wind threw something into it. Tony ducked and covered his head and he felt little pieces of glass up up his hands and fingers.

“Fuck,” Tony whispered to himself, turning back to his father on the couch and trying to ignore the gusts of wind at his back nearly knocking him over, “fuck, fuck, _fuck._ ”

Tony threw himself back at Howard, shaking him so hard the couch was moving with his movements.

“Come on, _please,_ ” Tony said, voice cracking, “ _please_ don’t make me do this, God, _please_.”

Still, Howard didn’t so much as twitch.

 _“FUCK,”_ Tony yelled, collapsing to his knees beside the couch.

He could hear the wind pick up, impossibly, even more behind him.

“I’m sorry,” Tony whispered to the unconscious man before him, “I’m sorry.”

He rose to his feet and ran out side, digging his keys out of his pocket to jump in his car and drive away when he saw it.

Tornado. Barely two miles away from the trailer park.

“ _Shit,”_ Tony cried.

He threw his car keys down and ran around to the back of the house, pulling branches and debris off the cellar door out back.

“Come on, _open,”_ Tony cried, pulling on the old, rusted door handle.

Eventually the thing gave and he pulled it open, clambering down and pulling the door shut behind him against the wind with all his strength.

Once the door was shut he latched it and ran down to the bottom of the steps. He collapsed onto the ratty old couch they had left down there, and buried his face in his hands, tears slipping from his eyes.

 _Oh, God,_ Tony thought, _what have I done?_

* * *

 

Steve was completing more of his punishment chore list when he heard a frantic banging on his front door.

He was running toward the living room when heard his mom open the door.

“Hey there, boys,” Sarah’s voice rang down the hall, “what’s got your pants in a twist?”

“Where’s Steve?” He heard Sam’s voice ask, panic barely concealed.

“I’m right here,” Steve said as he turned the corner.

Sam and Bucky were standing in his entry way, both of them wide eyed and pale, mild panic on their faces.

“Is Tony here?” Bucky asked, stepping forward.

“Yeah,” Sarah said, brow furrowed, “he’s--”

“No,” Steve interrupted her. She turned to stare at him with confused eyes.

“He went back to his house.”

“ _What?!_ ” Sarah yelled as Sam and Bucky looked at him in distress.

“He… he said he wanted to get some of his stuff,” Steve tried to defend. It sounded weak even to his ears.

“Who cares about his stuff, we can get him new stuff!” Sarah said, looking at Steve in disbelief and disappointment. “What if his father was home?”

“He said he’d be at work until five.”

“Why didn’t you try to stop him--”

“I _did--_ ”

“Well, obviously not hard enough--”

“Everyone, _QUIET!’_ Bucky shouted over their bickering. “Whatever you’re arguing about is not important right now.”

“Yes, it damn well _is,_ James Buchanan--”

“There was a tornado,” Sam burst into the conversation before the arguing could start again. “It touched down in Oak Fields Park!”

Steve froze as Sam’s words sunk in and processed in his mind.

“That… that’s Tony’s trailer park,” Steve said faintly.

“What time did he leave?” Bucky asked, grabbing Steve’s shoulder.

“A-about an hour and a half ago,” Steve said, glancing at the clock on the mantle. His eyes widened in realization. “He- he never texted me to tell me he got there--”

“Alright,” Sarah said, grabbing her jacket and slipping on her shoes. She grabbed her car keys from the hood by the door and shoved passed all three teenagers in her entryway.

“Come on, boys,” she called over her shoulder, “we’re going to that park and we’re going to get Tony.”

All three boys scrambled to follow her, Steve picking up his shoes and running out the door without bothering to put them on. All four of them climbed into Sarah’s Honda, and without waiting to see if everyone was buckled and ready, she pulled out of the driveway and tore out of the neighborhood.

Steve pulled out his phone and tried to call Tony, hoping that he had made it to the house, grabbed his stuff, and left before the tornado had touched down. It rang once and then went straight to voicemail. The second time he called it went straight to voicemail again.

“Either he’s ignoring me or his phone is dead,” Steve said from the passenger seat, looking at his mom with wide eyes, “it keeps going straight to voicemail.”

“Don’t worry, honey,” Sarah said as she pulled onto the back road highway that would take them to Tony’s house, “I’m sure everything is just fine and he probably-- he probably forgot.”

As she said that, red lights and emergency sirens appeared on the highway behind her. She slowed down and moved onto the shoulder to let them pass. They tore down the highway, two police cars and an ambulance following along behind it. All of them heading in the direction of Tony’s house.

Steve felt his heart stutter in his chest.

“Well that’s not good,” Bucky said rather uselessly from the backseat.

* * *

 

When they had finally arrived at Tony’s trailer park, Steve had wanted to throw up as he looked at the devastation before him.

The tornado that tore through must have been extremely strong, because there wasn’t a single trailer in the park that was left standing. Where Tony’s house used to be was just a mess of destroyed furniture, plastic, wood, and glass. Cars were strewn across the field around the park, and Steve swore he could see Tony’s black pickup tossed upside down on the other side of the road.

Sam and Bucky had to hold him up and keep him from collapsing when he climbed out of the car, his knees giving out beneath him. Sarah had gotten out and immediately ran over to one of the firefighters who had beaten them here to ask if there had been any survivors, and if so, if any of them matched Tony’s description.

“Mr. Steve!”

Steve turned when he heard a squeaky voice a few feet away from him. Over to one side by an ambulance was a small boy, face covered with grime and dirt, waving as a woman tried to keep the oxygen mask over his little face.

“Peter,” Steve breathed, running over to the two.

“Hi, Mr. Steve,” Peter said, apparently resigning himself to try and talk around the oxygen mask the woman, probably his aunt, was keeping over his mouth and nose.

“Hey Peter,” Steve said, leaning down to hug the little boy, “are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“Nope!” Peter said, his voice a little muffled by the mask, “we made it down into our cellar when the warning siren started! It’s really dirty down there. And then a bunch of stuff fell on top of our door so we had to wait for the firemen to get us out!”

“I’m glad you’re okay, buddy,” Steve said, resting his hand on Peter’s head for a moment.

He turned to the other woman.

“You didn’t… you didn’t happen to see Tony before you went down there, did you?”

The woman thought for a second before answering, a frown on her lips.

“No,” she said slowly, glancing toward where Tony’s house once stood, “I saw his truck in the driveway, but I never saw him come out of the house. Was he in there when the tornado touched down?”

“I don’t know,” Steve said breathlessly, his heart pounding even harder, “he was just supposed to grab some stuff and come back to my house. But he never texted me that he was leaving.”

She turned again to look at the debris of Tony’s house.

“They had a cellar,” she said, looking at the destruction with sad eyes, “maybe he made it in before anything happened. They’re still digging people out of the cellars now, maybe he’s in his.”

“Is Mr. Tony okay, Aunt May?” Peter asked, looking up at his aunt with wide, scared eyes.

“I’m sure Tony is just fine, honey,” she reassured him, smiling as she brushed his hair back from his forehead. The smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Steve turned and walked back to his friends, his mother arriving at the same time.

“I talked to the first responder,” Sarah said, pointing back to the firefighter now directing his men to different areas of the park, “he said they haven’t found anyone matching Tony’s description, but they haven’t searched that area yet. He said they’ll go there next since we’re almost positive there were people in the home or the cellar.”

That had been six hours ago.

They were still moving debris around and trying to find the cellar underneath it all, careful not to disturb anything too badly in case Tony was buried underneath it. Slowly but surely, with the help of some volunteers, they were able to find other survivors. But still there was no sign of Tony.

Steve, Sarah, Sam, and Bucky were all shifting through the debris of Tony’s house, trying to find anyone who may have still been inside the house. The first responders were working on finding the door to the cellar underneath all the rubble. A couple of hours into the search, Rhodey and his parents had shown up, saying they had heard what happened on the news and wanted to make sure Tony was okay. They had started helping in the search as well.

Steve had just shifted half of a broken door to reveal a broken bed underneath when he heard Rhodey’s dad shout from further down in the rubble.

“Hey!” Rupert yelled, flagging down the firefighters and the EMTs from the ambulance, “I think I found a body over here! I need help getting the stuff off of them!”

Immediately everyone around them dropped what they were doing and ran over to Mr. Rhodes. The firemen worked with him and Bucky to try and remove all the debris.

Steve was standing frozen in his spot, afraid to go and look.

What if it was Tony they had found? What if Tony hadn’t made it out in time? What if Tony was-- was--

He felt a hand latch onto his and he looked to his side and found Rhodey standing next to him, holding tightly to Steve’s hand.

Steve gripped back just as tight.

“Please let them be alive,” Rhodey whispered, his voice hoarse, “and if they aren’t… please, God, don’t let it be Tony.”

Steve closed his eyes.

“It’s not Tony!” Mr. Rhodes shouted, and Steve nearly gasped out loud as the relief spread through his chest.

“Steve,” Bucky called, staring down at the body they’d found, “Rhodey. It’s Howard. Howard Stark.”

“ _What?_ ” Steve cried out in disbelief before he could stop himself.

Both him and Rhodey started climbing over rubble to get to where the small group of people were standing around Howard’s body. When Steve got there he gaped down at the body in front of him in shock.

He was staring down at the bloody face of Howard Stark.

“But if he’s… I told Tony to come back--” Steve mumbled to himself, his shock slowly turning to anxiety and then anger.

He’d _told_ Tony to turn around and come back if--

But what if Tony hadn’t had the chance? What if Howard had seen him come home and dragged him back inside before Tony could fight back? If Howard was in the house when the tornado hit, did that mean Tony was too?

His anger quickly dissipated to be replaced with incredible anxiety.

If Howard was here then where was Tony?

“Is he…?”

“He’s dead,” the firefighter said, his fingers pressed to the man’s neck, “probably for awhile now if the temperature is any indication.”

“Okay,” Rhodey said, “well, if he’s here then Tony has to be around here some--”

“Hey!” the lone fireman still looking for Tony’s cellar door shouted from a bit away, “Hey, I found a door over here! Someone help me get it open.”

Other firefighters, police, and EMTs went over to help the man jimmy the door open. Once it became clear that the door wasn’t opening, one fireman ran back to the firetruck before returning with a heavy axe.

“Everyone stand back,” he said, and then started bringing the axe down on the wooden cellar door.

It took what felt like an hour, but finally the door was splintered enough that they could pull most of it open and get EMTs down into the area. Steve stood on the sidelines, Rhodey to one side, his mother to the other as waited with bated breath for an EMT to climb out of that hole holding his boyfriend in his arms.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was probably mere minutes, they heard a voice shout--

“We got a live one down here!”

Steve grabbed his mother’s hand and closed his eyes, praying to any god that was listening that it was Tony that was about to come out of that cellar.

“Steve,” Rhodey said, nudging Steve’s side, “Steve, look.”

Steve opened his eyes and collapsed to the ground as his legs gave out from relief underneath him, his head swimming from the strength of it.

There, limping up the steps on the arm of an EMT, oxygen mask around his mouth, was a very much alive Tony Stark.

* * *

 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Steve said, brushing the hair back off of Tony’s forehead.

“Yeah,” Tony said, turning his head up to look at Steve, “me too.”

They were sitting in the back of an ambulance, Tony having just been deemed fit enough to stop using the oxygen mask. After they had pulled Tony out of that cellar they had whisked him off the the ambulance, checking him over for any injuries. They hadn’t found any, just that Tony was apparently a little dehydrated, and after hooking him up to a saline drip they had draped a heavy blanket around his shoulders to prevent shock and instructed him to keep using the mask.

Everyone from the Rhodes family, to Peter and his aunt, and even other firemen and police had stopped by to make sure Tony was alright. Sarah had taken one look at his face and began to fuss over him, adjusting the blanket around his shoulders, rubbing her hands up and down Tony’s arms to make sure he was warm enough, and reaching up to cup Tony’s cheek or run her hand through his hair. If it were Steve he would have teased her for his mother-henning, but Tony simply basked in the motherly attention and smiled up at Sarah whenever she kissed his forehead.

Eventually she too had stepped away to give them a moment alone, and once the EMT had said Tony could stop using the oxygen mask, they finally had a few moments of piece to talk.

“Tony,” Steve started carefully, not sure how to broach the subject, but knowing Tony deserved to hear it, “I don’t know if anyone has told you… but-- you’re dad, they--”

“He’s dead,” Tony said, voice blank and emotionless, “I know. One of the police officers told me.”

“Tony…” Steve trailed off, not sure if now was a good time to mention it, but he knew he had to say something.

“Tony, you promised you’d come back if your dad was home.”

“I know,” Tony said quietly, pulling away to look Steve in the eye, “I know I should have just turned around and gone back, but…”

“But what?” Steve asked when Tony didn’t continue.

“I was so tired of him controlling my life all the time,” Tony said, his voice small. “I got tired of letting my fear of him control me. I got tired of walking on eggshells all the time. I just wanted to feel like I was in control.”

“How did… how did you get to the cellar when he didn’t?”

“I guess he stayed up all night drinking after I ran away last night,” Tony said coldly, staring listlessly at the ground. “When I got here and saw his truck in the driveway, I just decided to sneak in through my bedroom window. Grab all my stuff and sneak back out again. He’d never know I was there if I was quiet. But when I left to go into the bathroom I saw him passed out on the couch.”

Tony stopped. His breath hitched a little when he breathed in, and his voice sounded watery when he continued.

“I tried to wake him up,” Tony said, turning to look at Steve beseechingly, “I really did. But he wouldn’t. He’d drank too much. And I couldn’t carry him, and the wind had already broken the front door and the window and I just….”

Steve wrapped his arm tighter around Tony’s shoulders and Tony let his head be guided down to bury his face in Steve’s neck.

“I left him there,” Tony whispered against his skin. Steve could feel the tears from Tony’s eyes against his neck. “I left him to die, Steve.”

“I killed my father.”

“No,” Steve said firmly, lifting a hand to rest against Tony’s head, “no, Tony, this isn’t your fault. You tried, okay? You did everything you could but in the end you needed to save yourself too, okay? You did the right thing.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Tony said, pulling back to wipe at his eyes with his forearm.

“I guess now it doesn’t matter if we call CPS,” Tony said quietly, looking over toward the rubble that had once been his house. “My last living relative is dead. They can’t arrest a dead man for child abuse. I’m a child of the state anyway.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed reluctantly, “I guess so.”

Tony was right, of course. It didn’t seem right that a man like Howard Stark wasn’t going to answer for his crimes against his son. It didn’t seem fair. But like Tony said, they couldn’t very well arrest a dead man. The whole point was moot, anyway. Besides… with the fate Howard suffered in the end, maybe he did still get his punishment in a way.

“I don’t know where I’m going to go now,” Tony said, “my house is destroyed. My primary care taker is dead. They’re probably going to put me in the system. Send me away somewhere.”

“We won’t let them,” Steve reassured him, pressing a kiss to Tony’s forehead. “Ma already said she would take guardianship of you if it came down to it. Besides, I don’t see the Rhodes letting you go very far away from them any time soon.”

They glanced over to where Sarah was talking quietly with Mr. and Mrs. Rhodes, a policeman standing with a notepad and pen between them. Whatever they were talking about, Sarah and the Rhodes seemed to be arguing very passionately with the policeman about something.

“Yeah,” Tony grinned, watching as Mr. Rhodes threw his hands up into the air in exasperation before gesturing to his wife and Sarah. “I guess that’s true.”

Tony wrapped the blanket tighter around himself and Steve wrapped his arms tighter around Tony. He rested his head on Steve’s chest and closed his eyes, letting the red and blue and orange lights from the fire trucks, police cars, and ambulances dance behind his eyelids.

“Hey Steve,” Tony whispered, burrowing further into Steve’s chest.

Steve hummed in response.

“I love you.”

Steve looked down at the man in his arms, his face covered in dirt and grime with tear streaks running through it, his hair a greasy mess, and his wide brown eyes shining with adoration.

“I love you, too,” Steve said seriously, kissing Tony’s forehead.

“And we’ll get through this. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally I was going to write an epilogue that took place 12 years after that last scene, but because the fic had gotten so long at that point I decided to leave it out. In the epilogue you would find out that in an autopsy they discovered Howard had already been dead before the tornado had hit, most likely from alcohol poisoning, so Tony didn't actually leave him to die as he was already dead. I might write the epilogue later on my tumblr that goes into that and where Steve and Tony are as adults in this universe. Let me know if you would be interested in that!

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is [superhusbands4ever](http://superhusbands4ever.tumblr.com). Please feel free to comment below, comments are my lifeblood lol


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